"If you please, sir," says Rowley. "Come to think of it," I continued, "you must take a cold, or something. No good of awakening Mrs. McRankine's suspicions." "A cold?" he cried, recovering immediately from his depression. "I can do it, Mr. Anne." And he proceeded to sneeze and cough and blow his nose, till I could not restrain myself from smiling. "O, I tell you, I know a lot of them dodges," he observed proudly. "Well, they come in very handy," said I. "I'd better go at once and show it to the old gal, 'adn't I?" he asked. I told him, by all means; and he was gone upon the instant, gleeful as though to a game of football. I took up the paper and read carelessly on, my thoughts engaged with my immediate danger, till I struck on the next paragraph:-- "In connection with the recent horrid murder in the Castle, we are desired to make public the following intelligence. The soldier, Champdivers, is supposed to be in the neighbourhood of this city. He is about the middle height, or rather under, of a pleasing appearance and highly genteel address. When last heard of he wore a fashionable suit of pearl-grey, and boots with fawn-coloured tops. He is accompanied by a servant about sixteen years of age, speaks English without any accent, and passed under the _alias_ of Ramornie. A reward is offered for his apprehension." In a moment I was in the next room, stripping from me the pearl-coloured suit! I confess I was now a good deal agitated. It is difficult to watch the toils closing slowly and surely about you, and to retain your composure; and I was glad that Rowley was not present to spy on my confusion. I was flushed, my breath came thick; I cannot remember a time when I was more put out. And yet I must wait and do nothing, and partake of my meals, and entertain the ever-garrulous Rowley, as though I were entirely my own man. And if I did not require to entertain Mrs. McRankine also, that was but another drop of bitterness in my cup! For what ailed my landlady, that she should hold herself so severely aloof, that she should refuse conversation, that her eyes should be reddened, that I should so continually hear the voice of her private supplications sounding through the house? I was much deceived, or she had read the insidious paragraph and recognised the comminated pearl-grey suit. I remember now a certain air with which she had laid the paper on my table, and a certain sniff, between sympathy and defiance, with which she had announced it: "There's your _Mercury_ for ye!"